Monday, April 30, 2012

Hamilton (the dog) is all settled in now and adjusting much better than I thought he would given his shy temperament. Considered changing his name, but he pricks his ears up when he hears us say it, so might as well keep it. It could be worse, like "Blackie" or "Midnight" or "Sambo". "Hamilton" at least has some dignity and is unlikely to be guessed at by some random stranger trying to call my dog. He is tall, dark and handsome and the name does not feel discordant...although if I had named him from a puppy, it would have been something like "Jack". I can't wait to go hiking with him!

Was thinking last night after he got lost and before I knew he was going to be OK. Why, how could I get so attached to a dog in such a short time? I'd only had him for a few hours and I was crying my eyes out. We must have looked at countless dogs in animal shelters; none of them felt right. As soon as I saw this one, I knew he was right. Right personality, right look, right softness, right size....just right. What on earth is it that trips my "just right" button and causes me to not only be satisfied and content with a choice, but also to commit and get attached right away like that? It doesn't really make a lot of sense. Is there a predetermined set of characteristics associated with positive memories and experiences, and when enough of these are fulfilled, the "just right" feeling goes into effect?

I know that there are people who would say that some things are meant to be, destined, fated. I'm not really happy with that reasoning because then it also means that all the crappy stuff that happened to me must have been similarly destined. Which is not to say that it couldn't still be true, but that's all a little too "wooo" for me. Also it implies that if negative things are just as fated as positive or neutral things, then they are fairly inescapable despite our best efforts and I really dislike that idea.

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